Hostage
by Tie4
Summary: Folken is a very organized man. However when his infamous cloak turns up missing he starts to suspect that foul play is involved. Will he ever get to the bottom of this? Or will his cloak forever be a hostage?


**Hello again! This is my first Escaflowne fan fiction and my second fan fiction on this site! I'm so excited and I hope you enjoy it! Though before you begin I would like to say that I have finished this at 4:30 in the morning and I trust my spell check on this one. If there are any spelling mistakes, it is its fault, not mine! cough Anyway, please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything in this story…In fact I don't own much.**

* * *

**Hostage**

* * *

Folken was a very organized man. From his sentences to his bed sheets, nothing was ever out of place. It was his comfort, his sanity. It was his hope for a slightly smoother and less stressful day. It always pleased him when he reached for something and it was exactly where he had put it. And it was ALWAYS where it should be. Not once had he ever reached for something of his and had been unable to find it…that is…up until now. 

He gave the inside of is closet a good, long, hard stare. He had been staring at it for about five minuets actually, but he was at a loss.

"My cloak…" He whispered. "…Is gone."

Another few moments passed, and then he moved what little clothes he had to see if it was just avoiding him. However it seemed that his cloak, his only cloak, was indeed missing. This left two options. One: One of the maids had taken it and it was being washed at this very moment, or Two: Someone…had taken it. His eyes glanced around the room for anything else that was missing, but everything seemed to be correct. But even still something…just wasn't right.

He closed his closet door and pondered for a moment. Well he could rule out the first option, the bed sheets hadn't been changed yet, therefore the maid hadn't been in the room. But why in all of Gaia would someone take his cloak? What use could they have for it? After all it was just a cloak, there were many better ones around and further more he highly doubted anyone could fit into it. Since this was the case why? What was their perpouse?

He thought a little more, and then a slightly annoying thought drifted across his mind. His eyes narrowed and he made his way out of the room. It was time to find Dilaundau and his man…

* * *

"Guimel?" 

The blonde, slightly bushy haired boy turned from the fridge in the kitchen and looked at the commanding officer who had entered the room. He had an apple between his teeth and was at the moment pulling out a carton of milk.

"Yesh sher?" He said through his apple. Folken stopped at the door way, gazing intently at him.

"Have you seen my cloak?"

Guimel thought, then shook his head. "Naw, sharry." He set the carton and the apple on the table between them, and started raiding the cupboards. "Why, you loose it?"

Folkens right eye twitched a little at the "L" word, but quickly resumed his dead pan look. "No, someone seems to have need of it. You haven't seen it about?"

Guimel shook his head again, pulling a box of cookies and three glasses from the cubbored. "Nope. Not around here at least. Sorry."

There was silence for a moment as Guimel searched and found a tray. Now Folkens curiosity had reached its peak and he asked, "Guimel, what are you doing?" The boy looked up.

"Oh, Miguel and Viole and I are playing card games in my room. I'm just getting us some snacks."

Folken raised an eyebrow, "Don't you have work you should be doing?"

Guimel shrugged. "I donno, I guess. But we finished practice and Lord Dilandau is caught up in something, so he said we could lie low for a while."

Folken pursed his lips for a moment, but didn't press for more information. "May I accompany you to your room then? I would like to question Miguel and Voile on the whereabouts of my cloak."

Guimel shrugged, picking up the tray and heading for the door. Folken moved to let the small go by. "Sure, but I don't think you'll get anything out of them."

Folken followed the boy closely. He would find his cloak…no matter how many people he had to question.

* * *

"Hey guys, we got company!" 

Viole and Miguel both looked up to see Guimel push the door open with his foot. He was closely followed by Folken, who helped open the door. "Afternoon Sir." Both boys said in unison. However the sight that greeted the strategist was less then formal. Both boys sat on the floor, cushioned by pillows and cards in their hand. Miguel was wearing only pants and socks, while Viole was sitting in his boxers. A pile of the rest of their cloths sat behind the other, along with some coins.

"I brought cookies." Guimel stated, sitting down to the right of them. "How's the game coming?"

Viole quickly took a cookie and bit off a piece, then explained, "Miguel's winning, but I think he's cheating."

"May I ask what game?" Folken asked, cocking an eyebrow at the half naked soldiers.

"Strip poker." Miguel answered, also taking a cookie. "And I'm not cheating Viole. You're just not good at this game." Viole frowned and rebutled, "I am to! Now shut up and lay down your cards!"

Both boys laid their cards down, revealing Voiles full house and Miguel's four aces. Violes frown deepened as Miguel smirked.

"That's it, now off with them."

Folken coughed, "Excuse me but before he starts um… striping I would like to know if any of you have seen my cloak."

All three boys looked up at him with blank stares. Then Viole cocked his head to the side, and smiled, "Ah! That's what's different about you!" Folken was curious as to what Viole meant by this, but Miguel beat him to it.

"Sorry, we haven't. Did you check with the maids?"

He shook his head, and Miguel nodded. "Then do so. You know how they are, always looking for something of yours to clean."

Folken was taken aback by this, and then gave Miguel a confused look. "E-…excuse me?"

It seemed that Miguel didn't hear him or had just plain out ignored him because he placed his hands behind his head and started glaring at Viole.

"Off with them! I won, we agreed!"

"Ugh, this is totally unfair!" Viole said, starting to work off his boxers. "I say we start a new game."

"After the next round where you have nothing to loose." Miguel said with a smile.

"I-if you will excuse me please." Folken mumbled, quickly making his way out of the room. When he had shut the door and his feet had swiftly carried him out of hearing range all three boys looked at each other, then started to chuckle. Finally Miguel cut in,

"Off with them Voile."

"Oh, you're no fun."

* * *

"Dallet?" The brown haired boys head perked up at the sound of his name through the large guymelef work room. He then put down the tools he was using at peered over the edge of his guymelef to see Folken, looking around the room, with no shirt on. Dallet smirked and gave him a cat call. 

"Wow Folken, letting loose are we? You sure look sexy."

Folken glared up at the boy crossing his arms. "Is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?"

Dallet shrugged, wiping oil off his hands and onto his pants. "Suppose not unless he's half naked."

Folkens glare intensified, as did Dallets smile.

"Have you seen my cloak?"

Dallet cocked an eyebrow at the older, and then picked up his tools again to get back to work. "Um, nope, can't say that I have. Why, someone take it?"

Folken nodded, gritting his teeth. "I assume so. It's not where I had put it last night."

Dallet smiled again from his work station, trying not to laugh. "Well sorry, I'd love to help out, but I'm a bit busy. Maybe Shesta will be able to help you. I'm sure he has time to kill."

Folken narrowed his eyes, and then sighed. "I suppose so. Thank you for your time."

"Not a problem hot stuff."

He glared up at the guymelef, and then turned at walked out of the work room. However he swore he heard chuckling on his way out…

Ugh…now it was starting to get cold. Where was his god forsaken cloak?!

* * *

After asking many a few dreamy eyed maids where Shesta might be, he found the boy outside in a small out of the way garden. It was located on the very top of the floating castle where it could get the most sun and had no walls; therefore it was not hard to find the boy. 

Shesta picked a few plants from a slightly yellow bush and placed them into a small book in his lap, then wrote something down the page. "Afternoon sir. What can I do for you?" He said, not looking up from his work. Folken looked around the garden and took a deep breath of fresh air.

"I'm looking for my cloak. You wouldn't by chance know where it is?"

Shesta looked up for a moment, then shook his head and looked back down. "No, sorry. I've been up here most of the day…that is after practice of course."

"Oh?" The older asked. "And what are you doing exactly?"

"Classifying herbs." He said with a nod, scooting from his spot to another and picking another plant. "Dilandau gave me the duty of healer a few days ago. He says I have a knack at it, but it seems to me someone else should do this…someone who has a bit more confidence." Shesta chuckled and shook his head.

Folken pursed his lips and looked off into the sky. "Hm…well I suppose if you didn't have enough, Dilandau wouldn't have chosen you, correct?"

Shesta stopped and was silent for a moment, then looked up. "Yeah…yeah I suppose so."

Folken nodded. There was a pause in conversation, letting the wind and the birds fill the gap of silence. It was peaceful…but Folken found it to be too cold for his liking.

"You could check with Gatti." Shesta said. Folken looked over to him, but the boy did not meet his gaze. "For some reason he ends up finding out about different things around the fortress. I'm sure he'll have some idea where it might be."

"And you don't?" Folken guessed. Shesta didn't answer right away, but the strategist did notice the blondes hand falter.

"Of coarse not." Was his response. Folken chuckled and shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And I suppose I won't be able to dig the information out of you?"

Shesta smiled, but still wouldn't meet the older's gaze. "As I said before… Gatti may have more information that would help you in your…quest."

Folken sighed, looked back towards the sky. "I see. And you would by chance know where he is?"

Shesta pursed his lips in thought. "You could try the library. He spends most of his time there, reading up on strategies and such."

"And you wouldn't know a path there that would steer away from…mainstream hallways, would you?"

Shesta now looked up at him, and eyebrow cocked. "Avoiding someone?"

Folken frowned. "More of a group. The maids seem to have a fasination with me today. They keep following me…"

Shesta chuckled, making him frown more. The boy shook his head and put down his pen. "Well I don't blame them. If I was female and trapped on a flying fortress with no husband and a man like you walked around with no shirt…I'm sure I would follow you as well."

A slight blush brushed across Folkens cheeks, but he quickly corrected himself and nodded. "I see. Well I would need my cloak for that."

"Ask Gatti."

He sighed in frustration and left the bowl cut boy with his pen and his herbs, smiling and humming a light hearted song. Dear gods he hated today…

* * *

Folken burst through the library door, making Gatti jump from his seat, and look up. When Folken had spotted his prey he quickly made his way over to him in a huff. Gatti quickly put down his book and stood at attention. 

"Sir!"

This took Folken aback for a moment by the boy's response. He had been the first today to show such a form of respect to him. It was such a surprise to him, that he almost forgot that he was angry…almost.

"Where is my cloak?"

Gatti didn't move at all from his position. "I am unable to answer you sir!"

Folken sighed, rubbing his temples. "At ease Gatti." Gatti physically relaxed and placed his hands behind his back, giving all his attention to Folken who was…honestly impressed. It was no mystery why Dilandau had so much faith in this boy. He seemed in some ways to be a better soldier then his own lord.

"Gatti, I know you're in on it." Folken pressed, "Now where is my cloak!"

Gatti's lips twitched, trying not to smile, "I'm sorry sir, but I am unable to give you any information on the…hostage situation."

"Hostage?" Folken asked, a growl forming in the back of his throat.

Gatti nodded, "Yes sir."

"Explain yourself." Folken said, crossing his arms. Gatti gave a curt nod, then handed him a slip of paper. Folken narrowed his eyes at it, then grabbed it and read it quickly.

_**My dear Folken.**_

_**It seems I have come in **__**possession**__** of an item of yours. However before I give it back I demand a form of payment. After all, nothing in this life is free, **__**isn't**__** that right? So if you ever want to see your **__**cloak again**__** be at the **__**briefing**__** room at 1700, and Folken**_

There was nothing left on this side of the paper; however the sentence was completed on the opposite side. He flipped it and growled at the remainder of the sentence:

_** Don't make me wait.**_

"This is ridiculous." He growled and tore the slip in half, letting it fall to the ground. He glared at Gatti, who was having a hard time trying to keep a straight face.

"I don't suppose I could torture you for information before then?"

Gatti blinked and the hinted smile was gone. Folken guessed by the response that he had sounded pretty serious.

"That action would result as your hostage would be disposed of immediately." He said his voice a lot calmer then he looked.

Folken bit back a foul word and rubbed the back of his neck. "I see. Well then…till 1700…" He walked away, leaving an unnerved Gatti with his book.

* * *

Folken growled in frustration as he power walked to the briefing room. These maids…they were everywhere! Accidently bumping into him, giggling and pointing behind his back, doing all their sorts of…girlish things! It disgusted him to a point beyond words. Curse these hormone crazed females! 

He soon reached the double doors of the briefing room and pushed them open with such force that they almost broke off the hinges. He didn't notice however, fore his attention was drawn towards the end of the oval shaped table in front of him. Sitting in the largest chair in the room was a thin, pale boy with silver hair and blood red eyes, staring intensely back at him. His legs were crossed and he held a glass of wine in one hand. Around him stood all the dragon slayers, smiling back at him.

"Good evening Folken." Dilandau said his voice smooth as usual. "Please have a seat."

"Not until I get my cloak back." He growled, glaring at the boy in front of him. "Dilandau this is idiodic-"

"Hush." Dilandau said, waving Folkens words away. "Enough. Now, let us bring out the hostage."

Shesta and Viole both brought out the cloak and laid it on the table next to Dilandau. Their commander smiled and laid a hand on the thick piece of fabric. "It is a nice piece of clothing, isn't it? Especially for you, since you can't really wear a shirt with that metal arm of yours…"

Folken growled and gave a low throated curse. Dilanduas smile intensified.

"On what terms…" Folken growled, averting his gaze to the right hand wall. Dilandau placed his hands together and looked away.

"Well you see me and my men have been working so much lately…so much that we all are to a breaking point." Folken looked back at him, listening with a slight curiosity. "Therefore we have found it necessary." He looked back at Folken, to intensify his sentence, "And I mean necessary…for us to take a vacation."

Folken laughed slightly. "Dilandau we both know that is impossible. We are in a war; you simply can't vacation away from war!"

"My lighter please." Dilandau said, lifting a hand. Dallet pulled a small silver object from his pocket and handed it to his lord. The albino opened it and a flame shot out. It was here that Folken realized the danger of the situation.

"Dilandau put it down." He said his voice firm and low. Dilandau smiled again, flashing his teeth this time.

"Make me."

"Dilandau!" He shouted, slamming his hands down on the table, making two of the six dragon slayers jump slightly. "Put the lighter down this instant! We both know that you CAN'T have a vacation, it just won't work-"

"Then make it work!" The boy replied, looking at the flame, as if it was the only interesting object in the room. "You are Folken, the strategist. You can…you know…pull a few strings and such. I have faith in you."

Folken stared Dilandau for a long time, then sighed, slipping into one of the seats. Dilandau smiled at him.

"Comfortable, aren't they?"

"Shut up and give me my cloak."

"Is that a deal then?"

Folken looked at the table for a long hard five minuets, then nodded. "Yes…it's a deal." He said his voice quiet.

"Haza!" Dilandau said, closing the lighter and raising the glass of wine. "My dear Folken, I'm so glad we could reach such an agreement!"

The older glared as the other downed his wine and set the glass on the table. "Now, men, let us leave our commander with his reunited."

All seven of the boys started talking about the new turn of events as the walked out of the room. The hostage was thrown onto Folken, who made no move to change the situation in any way. When the room was quiet he sighed and picked up his cloak...and wondered if it had been worth the trouble.

Though as soon as he walked out of the room he found that none of the maids even noticed him anymore he agreed that it had been worth it in the end.

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**The end! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I do love reviews, so by all means tell me what you think! Have a great day and keep an eye on all your articles of clothing!**


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